But fee, how 'twixt her fifter and her fire,
Soft hearted mercy fweetly interpofing,
Settles her panting breast against his fire,
Pleading for grace, and chains of death unloof-
ing:

(a) See that fweet poem, intituled Chrifl's Villorg and Triumph, part 1. fanta 18.

Yet thoufand thousand heavens he could con-
tain,

And ftill as empty as at first remain':
And when he takes in most, readiest to take again.
XXXI.

Though travelling all places, changing none:
Bid him foar up to heav'n, and thence down
throwing,

The centre fearch, and Dis dark realm; he's
gone,

Returns, arrives, before thou faw'ft him going: And while his weary kingdom safely fleeps, All restless night he watch and warding keeps: 1. Never his careful head on refting pillow fteeps.

The foul there reftlefs, helpless, hopeless lies; The body frying roars, and roaring fries: There's life that never lives, there's death that never dies.

XXXVIII.

Hence while unsettled here he fighting reigns,
Shut in a to'wr where thousand enemies
Affault the fort; with wary care and pains
He guards all entrance, and by divers fpies

Searcheth into his foes and friends designs: For most he fears his subjects wavering minds This tower then only falls, when treason undermines.

ΣΧΕΙΣ.